The Traveller From an Antique Land
written by: Stanley Wilkin
@catalhuyuk
Hopping across the empty sky
He returned to his birth
Marked by conflict.
Cannons secreting shells, explosions like
Mangled hiccups, the rifle fire of inconsolate
Pixies wrapped in ermine. He leapt again into a void
And discovered his older self debating
With Socrates, winning hands down.
The old philosopher clutched the soul
Out of the air, washed it, laid it out
To dry under the fierce Athenian sun
And then, drinking hemlock, he wore it
Close to his skin. Saying a rushed goodbye
He slipped into religions trumpet sounds,
Waved Jesus goodbye (Jesus nodded and smiled
As his final breath left his body.) He waved, and our
Traveller waved back.
Muhammad offered him a piece of meat and taking it
He fled the desert to the ripping, rolling sea.
Falling back into a void,
He reappeared amongst the Mongols riding
A pony, firing arrows at every fleeing back,
Grinning from ear to ear. A missile rent
Apart the sky and sent him back to his birth.
He said hello to the baby he once was
Admiring his mother’s beautiful smile
And youthful figure, falling into her
He became a foetus gurgling loudly, searching for the nearest exit. The
Damp air claimed him, his breathing began.
An old man, he watched his energetic grandchildren
Playing with a slowly disappearing ball,
And fell back into the sky
Eating ham sandwiches and drinking tea,
Spun around, spinning away he reached the far
End of the universe, beginning again.
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